The Lifestream Anthology
by Crimson Firebreeze
Summary: There is trouble in Midgar again now that the Remnants have found away to escape from the Lifestream. Vincent must not only aid AVALANCHE but also fight an internal battle with his heart when a new member of the team risks everything to fight. VincentxOC
1. Chapter 1

takes place during Dirge of Cerberes

**Tragedy**_**  
June 14, 2006**_

(Constantine's POV)

She let out the breath she had been holding slowly. She had to remain silent at all costs. Slowly, she drew another shaky breath and held it, listening. It was quiet. Her mother had stopped screaming at least 20 minutes ago. She peered through the crack in the doorjamb. Pushing on the door, she crawled out of the closet and looked around. The men were gone.  
Constantine stood and ran down the stairs. She slipped on the tile floor below. The substance that she fell into was wet and sticky. She sat up and looked around. Blood. She bit back a scream of terror as she stood. She followed the trail into the entryway where she stopped dead in her tracks. She doubled over and vomited at the sight in front of her.  
There at her feet lay her dead parents. They had been slaughtered and if that wasn't enough for those terrible men, they had mutilated their bodies. The scene looked like something from those horrific images of genocide. She dropped to her knees and cried. Her parents, her wonderful, loving parents were dead. What was she going to do?  
She inched her way to a corner and huddled there, her knees pulled to her chest and wept. Her tears were bitter, sorrowful, and fearful. Soaked in the blood of her slaughtered parents, she cried for what seemed like hours.

An urgent knocking on the front door made her bite her lip and stifle herself. It was darker now, probably late in the evening. The knock came again. Then to her horror, the person on the other side tried the doorknob and opened the door. She shrank further into the dark corner upon seeing the man who now stood in the entryway.  
He was tall and relatively thin from what she could see. He wore leather and a good amount of it. Pale light from the outside glistened off his clawed hand and the pistol at his side. His red tattered cape rustled gently in the breeze from outside, his black hair did the same. The buckled collar of his cape hid the man's mouth and his eyes nearly glowed orange from under a red cloth headband over which his hair hung. He looked ghostlike, his skin pale.  
Constantine could hear him mumble something, probably his own shock at the sight before him. She recognized something about him. It had to do with his eyes. What, she didn't know. She hiccupped. Shit.

The stranger saw her and came forward quickly. She screamed and it startled him. He came towards her once again but stopped just out of her striking range and kneeled. She kept on screaming and he waited until she stopped. She had no intention of stopping. She was going to scream until he went away. He must have figured it out because he clapped his hand over her mouth. It was then that she realized he'd come closer. She could see his face clearly now in the dim light. She had the aching feeling that she knew him.

"Constantine Evangyl?" he asked quietly.

She nodded quickly. How did he know her name? He was looking over her, inspecting her almost. She realized that she must look bad covered in blood.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head

"Did you see who did this?"

Again she shook her head.

"I'm going to let you go now. Don't scream."

She nodded and he removed his hand from her mouth. She hiccupped again as he stood.

"My name is Vincent, I was a friend of your parents."

Vincent? Vincent Valentine? The Turk? Now she knew why she recognized him. The last time she had seen him, shed been at least four. There was a picture of him and her parents in the hallway. He had been like an uncle to her. He had been named her godfather before he went missing. Almost without hesitation, she got up and threw herself into his arms. It took him a minute before he patted her shoulder.

"Get your things and get cleaned up. You are going under my protection."

She did as she was told. When she came back down with her suitcase, Vincent had cleaned up everything. He was now waiting by the door. When he saw her, he led the way out. Going down the walkway, she looked over her shoulder at the house. In a matter of seconds, she was under Vincent's red cape.

"Don't look back," he said quietly.

A wave of numbness washed through her system as she turned her face forward once again. She was an orphan. She went into a state of shock, swearing revenge on the ones who took her parents from her. She barely heard Vincent when he spoke.

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

They spoke no more. She was happy she was still short. Her size made her look ten years old. For that she was grateful. She felt safe under Vincent's cape with his hand on her shoulder, leading her along. Of course, she had to wonder where he was taking her. Nonetheless, she trusted him. As if he could read her mind, Vincent spoke again.

"You cannot stay with me so, I am taking you to Tifa. She is a friend and will take good care of you until I return."

Where was he going? She didn't want him to leave. Unknowingly, she had tied herself to him. He was the only thing in her world that was safe. He patted her shoulder and continued to lead her on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Vincent's Charge**_**  
May 20, 2006**_

_(Constantine's perspective)_

"Am I interrupting something?" came that deep gruff voice that belonged to only one man. Vincent Valentine.

Constantine set the stack of pictures down and turned to look at the leather clad vampire-esque man standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Not at all, Vincent. Please come in."

Vincent stepped into the room and leaned against the wall. He remained silent, his orange eyes watching her. It was awkward, yes, and at the same time comforting. It was a long while before he spoke and when he did, he sounded thoughtful.

"Constantine."

"Yes?"

"No, your name. It is that of a man's. It's curious that your parents bestowed that name upon you, a woman."

Constantine shrugged. She knew this already but she found it a little puzzling that Vincent was just now pondering over her name. Surely he'd pondered over it before. He did, after all, practically raise her these past three years. Why was he here anyway?

"I've taught you all I know, Constantine. Are you ready?"

"For what?"

"Anything."

"Speaking in riddles again, Vincent?"

"Not at all."

Constantine turned and looked at him, her violet eyes meeting his orange ones.

"Then wha-"

"Anything and everything," he cut her off. " The tings that jump out from the shadows.

The villains that want to do away with you. Things that can and will kill you just for the pleasure of it. Are you ready for those?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"You said you wanted an adventure. I am giving you the chance."

Constantine was baffled and Vincent's eyes betrayed nothing.

"I guess I am."

"You either are or you aren't. Which is it?"

She stayed silent. How was she supposed to know if she was ready for an adventure? She frowned, thinking deeply. She didn't notice when Vincent smirked.

"Come with me, Constantine."


	3. Chapter 3

**Vigorous Training**_**  
May 25, 2005**_

_(Constantine's perspective)_

The beam was long and narrow, difficult to balance on. She looked at it skeptically. She didn't know how she was going to pull off everything.

"Well, get going," growled Vincent.

Constantine jumped, not expecting the harsh tone. She bit her tongue to keep from cursing and took the first step. The beam's surface was slick but she managed to get across without falling. She looked over at her teacher for approval. Vincent nodded.

"Good, now walk it backwards."

"What!? I can't-"

Vincent's disciplinary glare stopped her in mid-sentence.

"Cant isn't an option. You will."

"But-"

"Constantine."

She sighed, defeated, and did as he instructed without further argument. She walked backwards and forward on the beam until her balance was perfect. Then she had to do it with her eyes closed. She had to run, turn, jump. Basic gymnastics really. To someone who didn't know any better, it would all seem pointless. She knew why Vincent was doing this. Someone else, someone who didn't know Vincent, wouldn't though.

"Now test your acrobatics."

"You mean flipping and the like?"

Vincent nodded.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?!"

"As a woman you are naturally graceful and agile."

"So?"

"Don't argue."

She gave him a pleading look, which obviously had no affect on him.

"If you can do a flip here where I am standing, you can do a flip on that beam. Now do it."

Constantine cursed under her breath. Vincent apparently heard her.

"Respecting your mentor is a lesson I'm going to have to re-teach you."

She ignored Vincent's comment and stared at the beam, contemplating how she was going to pull off this stunt. After long minutes, her thoughts were invaded by Vincent's sigh.

"Start with something simple."

Then it clicked. She quickly put her hands down of the beam and threw her legs over her own body, landed the flip , then lost her balance and fell. Pain rocketed from her tailbone, up her spine and into her skull. She groaned and looked to Vincent. The look on his face said everything. She was to get back on the beam and do it again.

Eventually, she mastered it. But it came at a price. Bruises and sore muscles.

Finally, to Vincent's delight, Constantine attempted to flip without the use of her hands and without being asked to. Unfortunately, it went painfully wrong.  
She fell, having missed the beam completely. A bone-chilling crack echoed in the air. Constantine bit down hard on her lip and squeezed her eyes shut against tears. Her knee was throbbing. Must have slammed it into the beam when she fell. She stood, her leg on fire, and climbed awkwardly back onto the beam. She attempted the flip again and landed it with a cry. Her knee gave out under her weight and she fell again. Once more she sucked it up and attempted to get back onto the beam. Her knee gave out as Vincent's arm encircled her waist, catching her. Held firmly to Vincent's body, she let herself weep.

"That's more than good enough for today," he said quietly.

She nodded in submission.

"Can you walk?"

"I don't think so."

Without another word, Vincent scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the house. He lay her down in her bed and got ice for her injury.

"Good girl," he whispered as he put the ice on Constantine's swollen knee. "Rest. Regain your strength."

Constantine nodded gratefully and closed her eyes as Vincent turned and left the room.


End file.
